<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Courthouse Killer by onelegflamingo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450055">The Courthouse Killer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelegflamingo/pseuds/onelegflamingo'>onelegflamingo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Note &amp; Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Detectives Together, Light has issues, M/M, Murder Mystery, Slow Burn, Yakuza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:28:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelegflamingo/pseuds/onelegflamingo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>L is in Japan, hot on the tail of a vigilante killer. Light is desperate to prove himself as a detective. Who will come out on top; or are the both in over their heads?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>L/Yagami Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Task Force, Assemble!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rating will go up in future chapters.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>L crushed the edges of the damnable coroner’s report. He could let himself grimace alone in the large conference room. Kenichi Takeda, the report read. Age 39. Known yakuza connections. Hung himself from a ceiling fan days before L would have caught him in a sting in Shibuya. Or L probably would have caught him. Though a middle ranking mobster at best, the man was clever, and had slipped L’s net before. He consciously let go of the report and his hands clenched in his lap. </p><p>Finally, he pressed the blinking red button on the intercom in front of him. “Watari-san, please tell the investigation team I’m ready for them.” </p><p>Six hand-picked NPA officers filed into the conference room. L liked to keep his appearance as secret as possible, but he had worked with these men before and trusted them. Soichiro Yagami settled at the other head of the table and regarded him. </p><p>The silence in the room grew awkward, and L widened his owl-like eyes, curious what the detective would do. Finally, Yagami shifted uncomfortably in his seat and spoke.</p><p>“Ah, Ryuuzaki, we weren’t aware of any requests for your assistance at this moment.”</p><p>L pushed his rolling chair back from the table. </p><p>“Correct.” He said, bringing his thumb to his mouth as if to subconsciously nibble on the end. “I was not asked to come here.”</p><p>“Is there something big about to hit Japan?” Matsuda blurted out. A few shot him a chastising look, but he was just voicing the anxiety written all over the faces of the otherwise seasoned task force. </p><p>In answer, L spread seven case files with pictures out on the table. The assembled officers leaned over to get a closer look. Their eyes flitted questioningly between the detective and the photos, as if looking for the answer to a trick question. </p><p>L simply perched in his chair and waited. </p><p>Ukita finally cracked. “Ryuuzaki, all these criminals are dead.” The man was looking at him like he’d lost the plot. </p><p>“I am aware, Ukita-san. Please look closely at the cause of death.” L deadpanned. His eyes brushed over the photo of Kenichi Takeda again. He couldn’t help himself. </p><p>“The causes of death are all different!” Matsuda interjected, before the others had the chance to re-examine the files more closely. “Hit-and-run, drive-by shooting, drug overdose. These cases have nothing in common.” </p><p>L’s eyes widened again, guilelessly, thumb to his lips, as if seeing for the first time how silly his trip across the Pacific had been. </p><p>“They were all recently released from police custody due to lack of sufficient evidence, shortly before their death.” He said. </p><p>The others seemed to consider this for a moment. </p><p>“Ryuuzaki, you can’t possibly suspect foul play. Drug addicts overdose. Gang members get shot. There is no mystery there.” Aizawa said dismissively. </p><p>L deliberately did not look at Takeda. “I am sure that is what the responding officers thought, Aizawa-san, because that is what they were meant to think. Please look at the toxicology report for Takato Shindo.” L thumbed through his pile and passed out copies of the report. </p><p>“Shindo was a habitual user who was treated for non-fatal overdose three times within the last six years.” L continued. “Just two weeks prior to his death, the concentration of methamphetamine in his system was three times what it was the night he died.”</p><p>“Can we determine whether he was given methadone prior to his death?” Soichiro asked. L nodded in approval. A smart question. </p><p>“It’s possible, if he checked into rehab under an alias, but there is no evidence to indicate that he was pursuing such a course.” L replied. “Considering he was caught selling meth less than a week before his death, I find it unlikely he was trying to quit.” </p><p>“Medical science isn’t all-knowing Ryuuzaki.” Aizawa pointed out. “I saw a guy get shot in the head three times. Doctors said no way he would survive. He was up and walking around two weeks later. Sometimes people beat the odds, and sometimes they are really unlucky. That’s life.”</p><p>L turned the full focus of his stare on Aizawa. “I didn’t say his death was unlikely, Aizawa-san. Please pay attention. I said it was impossible.”</p><p>The team sat back and took a collective breath. </p><p>“Well, you didn’t actually say that…” added Matsuda. </p><p>L held Aizawa’s gaze a moment more, and then looked away. </p><p>“All of the men in these files died of heart attacks, not gunshot wounds or car crashes. They died exactly six hours after being released from police custody. I want to know why.” L had laid out his case and waited.</p><p>Soichiro adjusted his glasses calmly and spoke for the team. “Ryuuzaki, even if your theory is correct, and these men died under suspicious circumstances, can I ask why you chose this particular case?”</p><p>L respected Soichiro Yagami, and so he answered him. “Is murder not a serious crime, Yagami-san?” A few bristled at the word “murder.” </p><p>“Certainly it is, Ryuuzaki-san, but to be frank, there must be higher priority cases on your desk.”</p><p>“You mean higher priority victims, Yagami-san? People more deserving of justice than drug dealers, murderers, and thieves.”</p><p>“Ah…” Soichiro had no response. </p><p>“I will say this now, so I am clear. I will not tolerate anyone who gives less than their best to this investigation because they believe these men are better off dead. If you feel you cannot work on this case, tell me now, and I will remove you from the list of those designated to work with L. That is all.” L took a bag of strawberry pocky out of his pocket and began to munch. </p><p>Ukita slammed his case file onto the table and stormed out. His partner, Ide, followed with a worried look on his face. L locked eyes with Chief Yagami. He felt a twinge of unease in his gut at the thought of the senior detective telling him that the case wasn’t worth his time. Disapproving of him. </p><p>“If this is murder, Ryuuzaki, then this person has already killed seven people. I would like to find out the truth as well.”</p><p>Soichiro bowed. The rest of the team bowed too, though not all of them looked happy, and left the room. L didn’t smile, but he felt better. Kenichi Takeda was utterly remorseless. There was no way he had hung himself. Someone had killed him, and L was going to find out who.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Light is a Snowflake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Light Yagami pulled out a bag of potato chips for his sister as he heard the newscaster start talking about Ryuichi Ando in the other room. He closed the cabinet door and walked into the living room. </p><p>“Shouldn’t you be reviewing for your math quiz, Sayu?” he said, tossing her the bag. Light hated junk food. </p><p>“I had questions on a few problems, so I thought I’d wait for you.”</p><p>Light sighed. Another night helping his sister. He didn’t have anything better to do, anyway. He thought senior year would be good. He should be excited by the challenge of trying to get into the best university in the country, but he wasn’t. He could go into a coma for the next six months and still sail through the entrance exam. </p><p>“Sayu, your brother needs to study for his entrance exams. Don’t bother him.” His mother looked at him anxiously from where she was folding laundry. </p><p>“It’s fine mom.” He said. “I have time.” Light couldn’t help but glance back at the television. A clip he had seen a dozen times played out on the screen. </p><p>A handsome middle-aged man in a suit worth more than most cars stood in front of a hospital, surrounded by children. “I am here today because those with the power to change the world must stand up and act.” Ando said. </p><p>Sayu got up and started to lay her study materials on the kitchen table, and his mother changed channels. She didn’t like to do “frivolous” things like watch TV in front of Sayu. Lot of good it did. </p><p>To do anything less would be worse than sin. It is apathy which allows the world to rot, and its people to suffer. Light silently filled in the rest of Ando’s speech. He knew the words by heart, and they moved him, though not in the way Ando intended. He felt like the words were his, because it was exactly what he would have said. </p><p>Most people making a large donation to a hospital would have talked about the people who would benefit. Their valiant struggle against calamity and disease. Maybe share something personal about a sick family member. But Ando didn’t talk about the children or about himself, he sent a message. It was his duty. That’s how Light knew that there was more to his disappearance than begging off to some private island without a word. That’s how Light knew he wasn’t some guileless saint kidnapped by brigands. Well, he might have been kidnapped, but he wasn’t a saint. Light snorted. </p><p>“Onii-san.” Sayu waved her hand in front of his face. “Are you listening to me?”</p><p>“Of course, Sayu.” Light settled into the chair. “Show me the problems you want to go over.” Light patiently worked with his sister, half his attention somewhere else. Light had been attracted to Ando’s case since the moment he heard about it on the news, but he was years away from getting his badge, and even if he had it, he wasn’t sure he could convince the NPA to dig deeper when there were a dozen benign reasons for the man’s disappearance. It wasn’t benign, but he had no evidence to show it.</p><p>“Tadaima.” Lights father called gruffly as he walked in the door, in a plain, stiff suit with his jacket draped over his arm. </p><p>“Welcome home dad.” He and his sister called from the kitchen. </p><p>Light’s father walked to the threshold to look at them. “Light, you should be studying for your entrance exams.”</p><p>“Yes dad, I’m just helping Sayu for a little while.” Soichiro considered protesting, but then went to the cabinet to make himself a cup of coffee instead.</p><p>“Anata.” His mother came hurrying into the room. “You shouldn’t have coffee so late at night. Sit down and I will bring your dinner.”</p><p>“Sachiko, I’m sorry for missing dinner.”</p><p>“It’s alright, it’s alright. Sit down.” She said, and hurried to bring him dinner, and coffee, despite her admonishment. Light got up and went to join his father in the kitchen. </p><p>“Onii-chan!” Sayu complained. “I’m not done with the last part.” </p><p>Light ignored her. </p><p>“I didn’t know you were working on a big case right now.” He tried not to sound too eager. They had dinner at 8pm to try and accommodate his father’s schedule, but he rarely made it anyway. </p><p>“They are all important Light.” </p><p>“Of course.” Light said obediently. Inside he was seething. He knew better than to ask for details about his father’s cases. That’s why he hacked into his laptop. He should feel bad about it, but he didn’t. He needed something. He was suffocating in the mundanity of his life. </p><p>“Do you want me to take your things up to the study?” Light asked.</p><p>His father grunted affirmatively. </p><p>He knew his father was a good man and a good investigator, but was he really? If he had been good, wouldn’t he have seen what Light had seen in Ryuichi Ando? Wouldn’t he have seen it in his own son? </p><p>Light closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed. He was still in control. He was still fine. Everything was fine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Interviewing a Herring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>L methodically stacked sugar cubes as he listened to Mogi and Aizawa through his laptop. He had flagged five more suspicious deaths after combing through the NPA’s files all night, and he had the rest of the task force looking for more. They weren’t happy with him. They especially weren’t happy about him interfering with an ongoing prosecution.</p>
<p>After writing off 11 dead criminals, shock-of-all-shocks, someone at the NPA had actually flagged one as a murder.  Unfortunately for him, they had already caught the perpetrator. </p>
<p>L heard two car doors open as the detectives got out at the local jail. </p>
<p>Sou Nakamura had murdered his wife and stepdaughter after years of abuse, but walked because forensics showed that the woman had died of a ketamine overdose before Nakamura shot her. There was no way to prove that he had forced her to take the pills, and the penalty for defiling a corpse was minimal. The police never found the stepdaughter’s body.  </p>
<p>Two days after being released on bail, Nakamura had been forcibly drowned in his own bathtub. The profile and the timeframe fit their killer to a T.</p>
<p>“Mogi-san, Aizawa-san, please make sure to set the laptop up unobtrusively.” He said. </p>
<p>“Uh, Ryuuzaki, aren’t you going to question him with us?” Aizawa said from the other end. </p>
<p>“I will relay my questions into the earpiece.” He heard Aizawa huff. </p>
<p>L waited a moment to see if the officer would protest. He didn’t. Perhaps L shouldn’t have implied that he didn’t trust them to handle the questioning. Oh well. </p>
<p>L abandoned the sugar cubes and flipped through a stack of lesser cases while Mogi and Aizawa talked to the station sergeant. He hated waiting, so he kept a reserve of work around for the odd moments when he had to twiddle his thumbs. There were a few very old cold cases, some long running mafia investigations, and a few involving high profile individuals. The last were the most boring, but L needed broad and unquestioning police cooperation, and that required reputation. L was the greatest detective on earth, but sometimes he had to remind the powers that be. Ando was different. </p>
<p>The man’s face had been plastered all over the news, but that wasn’t why L was interested in him. Ando had a kind of magnetism to him—an intelligence—that made him think of Jim Jones more than Warren Buffet. </p>
<p>The man had come from a well-to-do family, but exponentially increased his wealth by taking his father’s small financial services firm and making it global. Many of his associates had been indicted for various financial crimes over the years, but Ando’s record was always spotless. Beyond suspicion. That’s how L knew he was crooked. </p>
<p>“Ryuuzaki.” His laptop buzzed. “We’re ready to go in.”</p>
<p>L moved his face inches from the screen so he could absorb every detail. </p>
<p>Shin Waseda was a gaunt man in his 30s. He took one look at Mogi and Aizawa and went back to staring listlessly at the bolted-down table like his grandmother had turned on C-SPAN. He was missing half his middle finger. </p>
<p>Aizawa set the laptop on the table and switched the recorder to “on.”</p>
<p>“I suppose we should start with your biographical information and move on to what happened the night Nakamura died.” The detectives seemed just as enthusiastic as their suspect. </p>
<p>“Aizawa-san, please ask Waseda-san if he wants to be in jail.” L spoke into the earpiece. </p>
<p>L watched his eyebrow twitch through the main camera in the interrogation room. He half expected a “nobody wants to be in jail” or a “who cares if he wants to be here?” but his agents wisely refrained.</p>
<p>“Waseda-san, do you want to be in prison?” Aizawa relayed, utterly professional.  </p>
<p>L caught a flicker of surprise on the suspect’s face, but he didn’t look up from the table. Running his scarred, small hands along the corner, back-and-forth. </p>
<p>“Who the hell wants to be in jail?”</p>
<p>“Maybe you don’t want to be here, but you don’t mind it, right?” L pushed through Aizawa. </p>
<p>Waseda shrugged. “It’s not like I got a family to support. And people here, they respect what I did.”</p>
<p>“I thought you said you didn’t kill Sou Nakamura?” Aizawa asked unprompted. L sat back and allowed the detective to take over, watching every twitch and grimace from Waseda. </p>
<p>“He killed my sister and now he’s dead. Might as well have been me.”</p>
<p>“Might as well have been you? You’re going to spend twenty years to life in prison, and you don’t care if you did the crime?”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t a crime!” Waseda finally showing some emotion, his tired eyes looking right at Aizawa. “That fucker…”</p>
<p>“You were mad. Anyone would be.”</p>
<p>Waseda didn’t register the taunt at all. “I went there to kill him. We both got what we deserved. There’s nothing wrong with that.” His breathing became labored, but his body was totally still. </p>
<p>Aizawa tried to ask some follow-ups, but he wasn’t getting anywhere.</p>
<p>“Who do you think killed him, Waseda-san?” L interjected, and he suddenly got calmer. Waseda leaned back in his chair and said almost serenely, “God. God killed him.” The detectives looked stunned for a moment. </p>
<p>“God drowns people in their bathtubs?” L countered. Aizawa recovered enough to relay the question.</p>
<p>“I guess God does whatever God’s gotta do. Doesn’t he?” Waseda answered dreamily. L looked at Waseda a long moment, utterly intrigued by the man’s ridiculous statement. His eyes were drawn again to his hands.  </p>
<p>L retrieved the autopsy report on Sou Nakamura, noting the imprint of fingers around the man’s neck. </p>
<p>“Aizawa-san, please continue with standard questioning.” He instructed, and Waseda transitioned into a tired rendition of what he had told police a hundred times before. </p>
<p>L went back to examining the photos of Nakamura. God has big hands, he thought triumphantly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Misa</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone for the kind comments this week. They were my best birthday present.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Light woke up like clockwork at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, with the gnawing desire for information deep in his stomach. He laid there for half an hour listening to his father get up, eat breakfast, and leave for work. Even his father didn’t work on Sundays unless there was something big on the horizon. Better yet, it was agency policy to treat the detectives to lunch if they had to work on their day off. </p><p>Light’s face remained neutral, but inside he smiled. </p><p>At 7:00 a.m. he got up, made his bed, brushed his teeth and got dressed.  He chose a button-down and khakis with a light sweater. He wanted to look polished and dignified, but not like he was trying too hard. One day he would be able to wear a suit without looking like a little boy playing dress-up, but frustratingly that day was not today. </p><p>Adults appreciated intelligence, responsibility, and confidence in young people, but only up to a point. A child who was smarter than his teacher was disrespectful. A source of embarrassment and a threat. Light had had a lifetime to learn how to walk the line between golden boy and precocious brat. He knew how to show people only as much of his ability as they wanted to see. Nobody believed a seventeen-year-old warranted a suit, and so he couldn’t wear one. </p><p>Light had always wanted to go into law enforcement, but he hated how fixated they were on seniority and rank. Especially in Japan. There were so many paths where he could have risen more quickly and with less resistance, but he had chosen this one. </p><p>Light ate his own breakfast while walking through his plan for the day, over and over again. It was the only thing that calmed his racing mind. He meticulously cleaned the kitchen and then made himself do cram-school homework until 11:00. It would take him roughly 40 minutes to get to NPA headquarters on the bus, 11 minutes to buy coffee because the line would be long at this time on a Sunday, 3 minutes to walk to the café on the ground floor, and he would be in perfect position to intercept his dad coming down to lunch at 12:00. </p><p>He went back to his room to grab his excuse from his desk, noting his mother in the living room.</p><p>“Mom, I think dad left his reading glasses in the Kitchen. You know the doctor doesn’t want him staring at screens all day without the special lenses.” </p><p>“Oh Light, are you sure?” His mom said without much enthusiasm. She didn’t want to take the almost two-hour trip down to headquarters herself, and she liked the image of him as a devoted and dutiful son. </p><p>“Yeah mom, I don’t mind. I can say ‘hi’ to Matsuda while I’m there.” </p><p>As the most junior officer on the team, it was logical that Light would find him more approachable. He actually did like talking to the man—mostly because Matsuda liked to share details about the team’s cases, in stark contrast to the taciturn and tight-lipped senior detectives. </p><p>“Don’t stay too late, Light. You need to focus on your studies right now.”</p><p>Light stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He gripped it for a moment to get a handle on his frustration. Then he left. </p><p>He got three blocks from the station before he felt cold fingers creeping down his spine. A bleach blond was standing at the bus stop dressed in black lace and vinyl from head to toe, like his stately suburban neighborhood was Shinjuku station. She was starting straight at him and didn’t look away when he met her eyes. Light felt increasingly uneasy as she smiled at him like she knew something he didn’t. He was sure he’d never seen her before. </p><p>As he got closer he realized the embellishments on her outfit were white skulls. </p><p>He walked towards her until their shoulders were inches apart. Everything about her screamed “shock value” and he wasn’t playing. Some idiot’s spoiled daughter titillated by the sanitized idea of death. </p><p>The bus pulled up and the girl just watched him get on. Light had just decided it was beneath him to think about whether she was creepy or not, when she got on just as the doors closed and sat directly behind him in the otherwise empty bus. </p><p>“Misa has been wanting to meet you for a long time, Light Yagami.”</p><p>Light stiffened. How the hell did she know his name? </p><p>“I don’t know you,” he said, making no effort to look behind him. He would know if she was from his school.</p><p>“Misa knows you. You were asking about ‘Rashi-san.” He had given them a false name. Shit. </p><p>“I wanted to know more about what he does for the charity. And to thank him.” Light glanced to the side briefly, trying to shake off some of his awful tension and will himself to look more natural. “What he does means a lot to some people.” He laughed nervously. Just a teenager talking to a pretty girl. </p><p>“He donates money,” she responded. “What else would he do for the charity?”</p><p>“Well…” Light thought for a moment, and decided to take a risk. “He donated right when the victim needed it the most—like he knew that someone needed him. I think that’s amazing.” Light was good at controlling his voice and expression. If she was stupid, she’d buy the guileless reverence. Most people did. </p><p>“People like you aren’t “just curious” about VVC, Light Yagami.” Light flinched as she repeated his real name. Reminding him that she knew he lied. How had she gotten it? What had he done that had made her suspicious? “It’s not an animal shelter full of kittens.”</p><p>No. This was a good thing. It meant that there really was something shady going on at The Victims of Violent Crime Foundation. What kind of charity would do a background check on a fake name of someone who didn’t even volunteer? The focus of the charity itself was unusual, and the ledgers were even more so. </p><p>“I’m going to be a police officer one day, just like my dad.” Light puffed up for effect. “It’s not right that innocent people suffer because this world is full of filth.” </p><p>Misa didn’t say anything for a while. The bus stopped and an elderly woman got on. Two pairs of eyes watched her move to the back of the bus and sit down. </p><p>“And Yagami-kun thinks he can stop them?” She said. </p><p>“I know I can.” He said definitively. </p><p>The gears of Light’s mind were churning through the spike of adrenaline from the challenge she’d posed to him. He wanted to see her face to gauge her reaction, but he couldn’t. It didn’t matter. He knew what she wanted to hear. He had meant it too. With his mind, he could cleanse the world. He could do anything. </p><p>As the bus approached the next stop, Misa handed him a business card with a phone number hand-written on the front. She got up and braced herself on the back of his seat to look at him directly. </p><p>“Misa hopes you mean that, Yagami-kun.”</p><p>Light had to admit that he was almost sucked-in enough by her earnestness to ignore her outrageous appearance. There were hidden depths to Miss Misa, not substantial ones, likely, but enough that he wanted to figure her out. And her connection to Keito Arashi.</p><p>He watched as Misa loudly thanked the bus driver and walked off at least somewhat closer to the city. She had an open messenger bag full of teen gossip rags and goth manga, J-rock vampires and trussed up cat-girls draped artfully over things as they bled onto the floor. Light tried not to rolls his eyes where she could see. </p><p>He contemplated the card she gave him as the bus made its way towards his father’s favorite coffee shop. Was it her number, or someone else’s? It could even be Arashi’s, though Light chastised himself for having such an unrealistically optimistic thought. What would he even say if he got Arashi on the phone? ‘Excuse me sir, have you been kidnapped and by any chance, are you related to Ryuichi Ando? As a side note, are you laundering money through the VVC Foundation for some nefarious purpose?’</p><p>No, he needed to be smarter about how he approached this. Her attitude had changed when he had said he wanted to rid the world of criminals. She had given him the card as a response to that statement. If VVC was crooked, the rot was buried deep. It was an organization filled with idealists and zealots, and he thrived in that kind of world. If he played his cards right, they would embrace him, and the case of his young life may well unravel at his fingertips. </p><p>Light exited the bus five blocks from his father’s office. He was so busy thinking about Arashi that he didn’t notice the two detectives in front of him in line to get coffee, until they started talking NPA business. </p><p>“Did you tell Yuri that you are going to be working all night tomorrow?”</p><p>The other officer sighed. “I told her. I’m blowing up my marriage, and for what? Babysitting some lowlife?”</p><p>“We might catch him re-offending. We’d be able to make the sentence stick this time, even if it’s a short one.” </p><p>“No judge is going to waste prison resources on a personal stash. If we can even see in the window. How could the chief do this to us? He knows how hard things are with Yuri. Doesn’t this piss you off too?”</p><p>They got to the counter and stopped the conversation to place an order. Light didn’t care that they were talking about his father. He found their complaints unprofessional and their work ethic questionable. These were the sort of men he would have to defer to when he entered the NPA. Joy. </p><p>“Of course I am, but you know it’s not the chief doing it. I’m sure he fought for us. Foreigners strong-arm their way in and get whatever they want. You know how it works with him.” </p><p>Light ordered seven coffees without letting a hint of what he was feeling into his expression, but ears were suddenly burning. Not many people could overrule his father, and the director wouldn’t micromanage a case like they were describing. The FBI might be able to exert enough pressure, but the officer had been talking about one foreigner. One man. L.</p><p>Light shivered. The world’s greatest detective, in Japan and ordering the NPA to do something they believed was a waste of their time. Something his father presumably believed was a waste of their time. Light almost laughed as he thought of his own pursuit of Ryuichi Ando. L didn’t work under anyone. </p><p>Light went through his finished calculus homework in his head to avoid looking impatient. Feeling reckless, he walked up to the officers and said hello. </p><p>“Good morning, officers. You aren’t working on Sunday too, are you?” All friendliness and smiles. They look startled. Probably wondering if he’d heard them. Light smiled for real, then. </p><p>“Ah, Yagami-kun, right?” the one without the angry wife answered. “We are working right now. Just stepped out for some coffee.”</p><p>Light nodded sympathetically. “Dad hasn’t been home for dinner all week. I told my mom that it has to be important; he’s protecting people. We haven’t seen anything on the news though.”</p><p>Mr. Couch-Bound frowned. “We can’t comment on ongoing cases, Yagami-kun.” Oh, someone was huffy.  </p><p>“Of course.” Light said cheerily. It was enough to have ruined the man’s coffee break.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. AnOnYmOuS</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>L had gotten off the phone with Director Kitamura three and a half minutes ago, and he feared another time-wasting argument was on the horizon. L wasn’t used to having to justify himself. Governments begged him to make the masses feel safe after some high-profile crime, because their own people were too incompetent to make any headway. No, that wasn’t fair. There were good officers, they just weren’t him—and well, he didn’t choose cases by popular vote. He chose this one because he needed to know who had ruined his plan for Kenichi Takeda and the Yamaguchi-gumi. </p>
<p>Kitamura hadn’t wanted to waste close to a dozen officers protecting criminals. He was going to hate putting surveillance on a third of the department. </p>
<p>Izumo and Arashi are aliases of Ando’s.<br/>Don’t waste time on people who don’t exist. <br/>If their billionaire patron has disappeared, why are the charities receiving more money than ever?<br/>Organize a list of new and unusually high donations. <br/>Try to keep up.</p>
<p>Idiot. Cute. Someone had added his or her very own case notes to Ryuichi Ando’s file in the NPA database. Anonymously. The NPA didn’t do anonymous. </p>
<p>“Ryuuzaki-san, I’m leaving the courthouse with the target,” Matsuda said through the com.</p>
<p>L responded without looking away from the infuriating message. </p>
<p>“Understood. Keep the com open until further notice.”</p>
<p>He had the courthouse killer’s victim profile plotted on his left screen and the anonymous messenger’s profile forming on his right. Young and cocky. Excellent tech skills. Probably being stifled by a supervisor. L decided to call him The Exhibitionist. </p>
<p>The telltale signs of car doors opening and closing came through the laptop’s speakers. The voices were muted but audible. </p>
<p>“Drop me off at the park by Ueno station.” </p>
<p>“Our instructions are to take you home,” Aizawa said. </p>
<p>“I’m not under arrest anymore, am I?” the man responded. </p>
<p>“I’m not your chauffeur, Kazuo”</p>
<p>“The way I see it, I’m a free man. I can go to the park if I want to.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you hear the chief say that you are a target for retribution?” Matsuda cut in before Aizawa could throw the rat out of the patrol car. “It would be dangerous for you to walk around in public.”</p>
<p>“If I’ve got any retribution coming to me, it’s not going to be from some outsider in my own neighborhood. We can stop at the park or I can get out.”  </p>
<p>Watari finally sent him the compiled profiles of all NPA agents under 30 and their supervisors. It wasn’t the childish anagram that had truly caught his attention. It was the document he knew hadn’t been there a week ago. </p>
<p>Even if he thought the commenter’s conclusions plausible, there was no way he could get a warrant for the charities’ financial records, much less their confidential donor banks. Exhibitionist had thought of that. Attached to the case file were bank statements indicating a long-running money laundering scheme at charity called The Victims of Violent Crime Foundation. It wasn’t enough for a conviction, but it would certainly get him the warrant he needed to see if Ando’s money was flowing in from some other source. Of course, there could be innocent explanations for the influx of cash.  </p>
<p>“Hey baby, how you doing?”</p>
<p>Did Kazuo just yell out the squad car window? The response was too faint for him to hear. </p>
<p>“Matsuda-san, please remind the target to refrain from drawing attention to himself.”</p>
<p>Matsuda made an uncertain noise. Sure enough, Kazuo continued to greet people as the squad car pulled up to the park and the man walked a full circuit around the area. </p>
<p>“Mizuki-kun, you have enough to cover the rent this month?”</p>
<p>“I almost have it. I just need to do a few more shifts this weekend.”</p>
<p>“You tell me if Tamaki gives you a hard time.”</p>
<p>“I will man.”</p>
<p>“Hey Toshi!”</p>
<p>“Shit, isn’t that the guy he assaulted?” Matsuda breathed through the earpiece. L would be disappointed if they had to take the man back to jail. It’s not that he wanted him to get attacked. Well, it’s not like he wanted him to die. But L needed more information on how the courthouse killer executed his plans. </p>
<p>“Leave me alone, man. I already paid you back.”</p>
<p>“No, you said you would pay me back. You’re going to be working that off for the next ten years, you little shit.”</p>
<p>“Stop it.”</p>
<p>“And don’t even think about making your wife work it off. I’ll be watching you, Toshi. I want your hands to bleed, understand?”</p>
<p>“Don’t you talk about my wife. I’ll do what I want.”</p>
<p>“You do what you want, and the cops won’t know where to find you next time.”</p>
<p>“Should we do something?” Matsuda said worriedly. </p>
<p>“What kind of idiot says that sort of thing in front of the police?” Aizawa grumbled. </p>
<p>“If that man disappeared, would you notice, Aizawa-san?” L said. </p>
<p>There was silence on the other end. </p>
<p>“How dare you.”</p>
<p>“Both men have criminal records. Likely mob connections. If protecting criminals is a waste of your time, Aizawa-san, then you shouldn’t concern yourself with what happens to them.” L glanced at the video feed from outside Kazuo’s apartment building. “Ide-san, the cameras by the backdoor are placed improperly.”</p>
<p>“Sorry Ryuuzaki-san. I think the installation team just left, but I will call them. Do you want me to leave my post?”</p>
<p>L told Ide to stay where he was as Kazuo lost interest in the spat and continued down the street to his apartment. Aizawa and Matsuda parted ways with him at the door to the small lobby and went to settle into their surveillance positions. The backdoor camera footage shook as a uniformed officer bent to adjust one of the cameras. At no point had he seen the man’s face in the frame. </p>
<p>“Aizawa-san, Matsuda-san, please divert to the back of the building. Approach the officer there with extreme caution.” The footage continued to tremble. </p>
<p>“What are you talking about, Ryuuzai-san?” Aizawa responded. </p>
<p>“Stop the man fumbling with the security cameras, Aizawa-san.”</p>
<p>The pair finally started jogging down the alleyway to the back of the building, but the suspicious officer was already getting up to leave. The camera placement wasn’t any better, but L got a flash of a non-regulation gun in the man’s holster. </p>
<p>“This man is armed and dangerous.” L relayed. “Use of lethal force is authorized.” </p>
<p>He could make out enough to know that Aizawa and Matsuda had rounded the corner, but they hadn’t drawn their weapons. </p>
<p>“What the hell Ryuuzaki! No matter what you think of us, we can’t shoot…”</p>
<p>The man was through the backdoor before they could close on him, and he could hear the shout through Matsuda’s com. A shout and a gunshot. Kazuo Maki was dead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Hell is Other People</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, I quoted a YouTube ad. I'm sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joyce Carol Oats once said that the great enemy of writing was being interrupted by other people. L supposed to same applied to most professions. It most certainly applied to his. </p><p>“I absolutely cannot allow internal surveillance of our own people, L.” Director Kitamura was saying into the laptop. </p><p>L wondered absently why he bothered to have conversations, since he knew how they would go before they started. There was no mystery in a conversation with a man like Director Kitamura. No fun at all. </p><p>“Kitamura-taicho, you realize that someone has hacked into your server and wants you to know it. He left evidence to mock you.” Well, to mock L, but that was neither here nor there.  </p><p>The director’s face turned red. “I thought you said this was someone in our office providing valuable evidence?” Touchy about his dignity. </p><p>“I said it is probably someone inside the NPA, which would pose a serious problem if the evidence was obtained illegally. If the Director was seen endorsing this practice, it could call into question the validity of all convictions moving forward.”</p><p>Kitamura said nothing. </p><p>“The first step is to find the vulnerability in the NPA’s system and fix it. With an agency this large, that will take time. For now, all officers working on my cases will use equipment provided by me.”</p><p>“That is unacceptable!”</p><p>“Second, we will conduct on-duty surveillance on the individuals that fit the suspect’s profile, to be extended to off-duty surveillance if necessary.” </p><p>“L, you can’t do this. This is a government agency essential to the people’s protection, not your personal playground. You can’t just show up here on some obscure case, pull our officers away from their work, and now you want to spy on half the force? At home!? Because of some stupid anonymous tip? Do you know the resources that would take, not to mention how disrespectful it would be to the men who devote their lives to this work? You don’t run this department.”</p><p>L thought for a while as the tirade went on. His poor relations with the officers were starting to interfere with his ability to solve this case. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kazuo would be alive if Aizawa had trusted him more. He hadn’t been wrong to test the man’s integrity. The entire team needed to stop rationalizing and make a decision: throw themselves into the investigation or leave. It was looking increasingly unlikely that working with him would improve their career prospects. This whole case was unpopular with their superiors, and probably the public too.  Only a true devotion to justice or a love of the chase could motivate them. Chief Yagami, and probably Matsuda, had the former. Only he had the latter. Well, L and the Exhibitionist, maybe. Don’t waste time on people who don’t exist. A challenge, not just to find Ando, but to find the commenter. </p><p>“Kitamura-taicho, I understand that there was uncertainty about this case when I arrived, but 11 people have now died. One right in front of your officers, who were tasked with protecting him. You can’t seriously doubt the threat this killer poses.”</p><p>“You don’t need internal surveillance for that case.” </p><p>L was surprised the man had remembered that distinction. “I need intact and reliable security for all cases, Kitamura-taicho, and so do your officers.” L rewound the footage from Kazuo’s murder one more time. “And you are right, utilizing so many of the department’s resources has made my operation vulnerable to the kind of infiltration we saw this afternoon. I intend to pare down my team and keep our operations strictly confidential from now on. Thank you, director.”</p><p>L ended the communication before the man could examine his words too closely. He narrowed his focus entirely to the interrogation of Kazuo Maki’s killer. </p><p>Takato Uehara, age 27, was wearing a pristine police uniform, and yet, the haunted, sallow look of his face made him look more like a resident of Kazuo’s dilapidated neighborhood. But he wasn’t from Kazuo’s neighborhood. Frustratingly, he had no verifiable connection to Kazuo at all. </p><p>“I killed him because I hated him.” He heard Uehara say. The man’s eyes were heavy lidded and his posture relaxed. L wondered if he had taken something. It wasn’t unheard of. L made a note to have him tested. </p><p>“You said that. What you haven’t said is why.” Aizawa sounded exasperated. The detective had insisted on leading the questioning, in spite of what had happened. </p><p>“Do you need a reason to hate someone like that? He was…” Uehara visibly collected himself. “He ruined people.”</p><p>“How did he ruin them? How did he ruin you, Uehara?” </p><p>L didn’t believe the man walked up to a stake-out dressed in a police uniform to carry out a personal vendetta; neither did he believe that the killer of 11 men had so clearly intended to get caught, smoking gun literally in hand. </p><p>Uehara’s eyes darted from wall to wall. “I owed him money. He was a parasite, always breathing down my neck. Making me crazy.” The man looked like he was heading into yet another panic attack. </p><p>L gave the signal for the officers to step out into the hall and give him some space. Some assumed he was faking. Aizawa wasn’t among them. At least not that he admitted. </p><p>“Is any of this even a little bit credible, Ryuzaki?” Aizawa asked into the mic. </p><p>“He has wracked up considerable debt; whether any of it was owed to Maki-san is hard to determine.”</p><p>“I’ll go back to the crime scene right now, Ryuzaki, and ask if anyone has seen Uehara before.” Matsuda interjected. </p><p>“Aren’t you doing the questioning, Matsuda?” Aizawa said. </p><p>“Um…”</p><p>“Matsuda-san is right, we are unlikely to get much more from Uehara. We seem to lack the information to ask the right questions.”</p><p>“How can this be our killer, Ryuzaki? It doesn’t make sense.” </p><p>“Please send Uehara-san to medical to get a blood sample and gather the rest of the task force in the conference room.” No, Uehara couldn’t be their killer, and yet he had shot their victim through the heart. </p><p>L laid out the clues in front of him like a tangled ball of yarn. Two men in jail, undeniably guilty, and yet neither of them the killer. Neither of them the man who had ruined L’s plans for Kenichi Takeda. </p><p>When the team, sans Matsuda, was seated around the table, L laid out the facts as he saw them. He placed the pictures of each victim on the tabletop, reciting their crime, the reason for their release, and their cause of death. He tapped Kazuo’s picture. </p><p>“This is when I became aware of the killer’s presence, though he had no way of knowing that.” He paused for a minute. Was that true? Had the killer targeted Takeda because of L? He had to suppress a shiver. He was seeing ghosts; there was no reason to connect this to the LA BB murders. There was no reason to think that the killer was doing this to get his attention. Except for that anonymous note. </p><p>“If he had a contact inside the NPA,” L conceded. “He could have learned of my presence after the fifth death.” The task force sobered at that. At least they weren’t outraged by the idea.</p><p>“The detectives had handed off most of these cases before the charges were dropped. Why do you think the killer has an accomplice here?” Mogi asked.    </p><p>L considered. He had no evidence connecting Exhibitionist to their killer. The tip had been on a completely different case. And Exhibitionist hadn’t gotten into his personal files. </p><p>“Then the interview with Waseda.” L continued after a long pause. “Just after this interview, we set up conspicuous surveillance and protection for high-risk suspects.”</p><p>“The surveillance is probably what tipped him off.” Mogi said. </p><p>“No. He knew about the interview. Waseda confessed to Nakamura’s murder, but his story wasn’t strong enough. We found holes. Uehara was his answer to that challenge.”</p><p>“Challenge? Ryuzaki, isn’t that farfetched?” </p><p>“We released Waseda, in spite of his confession, because we had evidence that pointed elsewhere. Uehara shot Kazuo in front of us and made no effort to evade arrest, so there could be no doubt that he was the killer.”</p><p>“You think there is someone orchestrating these murders-- threatening people into committing them for him?” Aizawa said. </p><p>“If that were true, we would have caught more than two out of twelve. Especially if they were amateurs who don’t care about being thrown in jail. Not just that, but someone would have talked. It’s not easy to get someone to throw their entire life away, much less twelve people, without at least one trying for something like witness protection.” Mogi added. </p><p>“He could have killed the others afterwards.” </p><p>The room was quiet for a while.</p><p>“So we are talking about 22 victims now? The dead, and their killers?” </p><p>“24 victims, Aizawa-san. Waseda and Uehara are victims too, if they were indeed coerced.” </p><p>“It is clear that the killer knows that L pursuing him.” And that Exhibitionist knows L is pursuing Ando. For someone who had molded his entire life around being inscrutable and unknowable, he was attracting a disturbing amount of close attention. “This is both a warning to be more careful, and an invitation to up the stakes. From now on, you will focus exclusively on this case, and you will not discuss the case nor store materials outside of this room. Without the support of the rest of the force, our surveillance options will be limited, but we learned today that our killer is not inclined to hide. We will reconvene in six hours to review Matsuda-san’s findings and the full results of Uehara’s financial audit. Half the team should search his house and question his neighbors, while the other half pursues his debtors. That is all.”</p><p>In the meantime, L had a billionaire to find.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Light is the World’s Most Eligible Asshole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my favorite chapter. I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Light had spent a long time looking at his wardrobe, wondering what one wore to a date with Satan’s barbie doll. Khakis were certainly out. Didn’t he own anything other than Khakis and dress slacks? He fingered his plaid uniform pants unhappily as he tried to look nonchalant. A trio of cartoon ice cream sundays stared imploringly at him from a laminated menu. </p><p>Misa was ten minutes late. He had moved everything on the table into perfect alignment three times before she came bursting through the shop door. There was something about the angle of the napkin holder relative to the edge of the table that was off, probably because of an imperfection in the construction of the table. Disgusting. People were so lazy these days. </p><p>He waited until Misa reached his table to raise his eyes to look at her. Every person in the shop had watched her walk up to him. She needed to know he wasn’t most people. </p><p>“You came.” He said. </p><p>She had been pouting, but her expression shifted to something a little more like longing. </p><p>“Yagami-kun isn’t used to waiting for girls, is he?”</p><p>“We’re not here to eat ice cream though, right?” He smiled. </p><p>Misa tossed her purse onto the seat and crumpled up like a used napkin. The purse was covered in black mesh, gathered into points and punctuated by little jewels. The top was a bow made of white gold. Light wondered how his brain made room for all this nonsense. Having an excellent memory was important for a detective, but studies showed that the brain had to delete old information to make room for new. Her purse was stealing things from him. </p><p>“What does Light-kun know about Arashi?”</p><p>Arashi. Not the VVC. </p><p>“I know he’s the been VVC’s biggest donor for decades, but that he stopped donating a few months ago.”  </p><p>He saw the lines around her eyes tighten. He had to assume she knew about L’s raid on the VVC’s donor banks. He had to make her think he’d found out about it after the fact. </p><p>“I also know that all the funding you used to get through Arashi is coming in from other donors.” Light paused to order a glass of juice, since it was the only thing on the menu he could stomach. Misa ordered a mango ice with two scoops of ice cream. He had done a simple search for her name, not expecting to find much, and been surprised to learn she was a successful model. She didn’t eat like one. “You know him personally, don’t you?”</p><p>“Misa has known him most of her life.” She toyed absently with the lacquered cherry charm attached to her cell phone. “Your father didn’t tell you about our funding.”</p><p>She wanted to trust him. He could see it in her eyes. The open hostility from the bus stop was gone and something else was building in its place. She was his key to this case, and he needed her to get at L. He thought carefully about how he would explain his sources. </p><p>“I’m one of the top students in the country, and I’ve been an unofficial intern for years.” It wasn’t exactly a lie; he was more than capable, but the NPA had no regard for talent or drive. He had to wait his turn. </p><p>“I don’t always stick to what I’m assigned to, though.” He looked at her meaningfully. He needed her to believe that he could break the rules and get away with it—that he had the power to give her something she wanted. </p><p>“He is still sending me messages, but he’s different. He’s changed.” </p><p>Light processed that for a moment. Misa was communicating with Ando, or someone pretending to be Ando. If he had, say, faked his own death, how could he use so many other donors to hide his contributions? The donors were established. It didn’t make sense, unless someone was taking the money under the table and then cooking the books. </p><p>“Have you seen his face, or heard his voice, since the change?” Light put on his best concerned expression. </p><p>Just then, the waitress came over with their sugary order. Light reconsidered drinking the juice. Misa picked up her spoon and stared at the multi-layered desert, as she smeared ice cream all over the bowl. It was a bad idea to push her. She wanted something from him, but she needed to trust him first. </p><p>“Why are you here, Light Yagami?”</p><p>Testing him again. What would her savior say?</p><p>“I want to protect people from criminals. No. That’s not enough. Putting people in jail doesn’t help their victims. The police take the victim’s statement as evidence and just walk away. I can’t do that.” </p><p>“That guy from your father’s case?” </p><p>“Something like that.” He let his eyes soften, like he was remembering something impactful. He felt a pang of guilt that it wasn’t real. He scared himself at odd moments. </p><p>“I’ll take you to a place I know in Shibuya. There are people there who help with the organization.” </p><p>Light wondered if he was joining the mob. He felt nothing when he thought about it. It was unfathomable. He resolved not to follow her into any dark alleys. </p><p>He noticed a pair of college girls giggling and taking pictures of them from another booth. He did not need a record of this little outing. And he needed to change his pants. Shit. Not only had he been photographed with a girl who was probably mob connected, he was about to meet her sketchy contact-- and he was wearing his school uniform. He’d told her his father was a police officer. He’d fucked this up. </p><p>Misa waved at their twittering stalkers and started actually eating her desert. He didn’t know which bothered him more. </p><p>“What does one wear to this place in Shibuya?”</p><p>Light saw her eyes light up and knew he was doomed. </p><p>Misa spent the better part of an hour and a half dragging him from shop to shop. He had insisted he was only buying one pair of pants—making up some story about his allowance and his need for lunch money. </p><p>“The people I am going to introduce you to pay you for your help, Yagami-kun.” She had said. That was what he was afraid of. What would he do if they wanted him to run drugs, or something else that could ruin his life if he got caught? He wasn’t a cop and he wouldn’t get any passes. He could just taste the shame in his father’s eyes. </p><p>Misa Amane flitted from high-price boutique to basement outlet like a seasoned professional. She had a truly suspicious amount of cash in her purse and never seemed to pay sticker price for anything. Light suddenly wished he had paid more attention to his sister’s celebrity gossip rags, because he just didn’t know what was normal; it couldn’t be the outfit. She was wearing a gauzy black terrycloth dress over a hoop skirt, with an honest-to-god cape draped artfully from the shoulders. She had a heart shaped hole over her breasts, framing a gaudy golden cross. The only thing she was missing was a little black birdcage in her hair. The salesgirls eyed him beside her like hungry lions. </p><p>That was how Light Yagami, age 17, came to own a sloppy T-shirt and his first pair of jeans. Black jeans, because apparently, they were on their way to their grunge goth wedding. The worst cloths he owned had cost him two months of allowance. </p><p>Misa’s “contact” turned out to be an older girl behind the counter at a store confusingly titled “Luxury Thrift.” She had been arguing with red-faced man over a Lois Vuitton handbag when they entered the store. There was a stack of off-beat fashion magazines on the counter, obscuring the top-view of watches and jewelry. Light wondered if everything in the store was stolen. </p><p>They pretended to browse a display of felt hats and leather gloves as they waited for the man to leave. Light wasn’t exactly dressed like someone on the hunt for used driving gloves. He tried to imagine what such a person would look like, and couldn’t. </p><p>“Megumi-chan is Misa’s friend. Don’t come here and talk to anyone else.” She whispered without looking at him. </p><p>“Is she a member of the VVC?” he asked, considering coming back to see whatever it was he was supposed to stay away from. </p><p>“She used to be, but she doesn’t come around much anymore.” Misa looked sad, and Light wondered how many members transitioned into this type of “career.” He had been scared that L would play the mature adult and cut him off from the results of the VVC audit, but two days after he planted the tip, a complete packet appeared in the NPA database attached to the case file. He knew it was for him, because the documents would normally have been added piecemeal as they came in. L’s refreshingly thorough sleuthing had revealed a checkered fate for former VVC members, especially the young ones. </p><p>“What happened to her?” He wondered if the question was taboo. </p><p>“Her dad was in and out of jail for various crap. It doesn’t matter anymore.”</p><p>What happened to you? Light wanted to ask her. He even cared about the answer, sort of. The police had no idea Ando was mob connected, or that someone was running his underground affairs while his legit businesses floundered. Why did Misa get the big modeling career while girls like Megumi were stuck at the pawn shop? Misa was the key to that world.  </p><p>“Well, well Misa-chan, does your manager know you have a cute new boyfriend?” Megumi set her phone on the counter to display a picture of them at the ice cream parlor. He knew that picture would come back to haunt him. They made their way to the counter to talk to a pink-haired girl with roots and a nose ring. Her eyes were red rimmed and tired.</p><p>Misa giggled. “I’ll call her in the morning. Don’t you think he would look great in Misa’s next photoshoot?” She latched onto Light’s arm like an octopus. </p><p>“It’s nice to meet you, Megumi-san.” He flashed her his most charming smile. Joyful and innocent, like the normal high school student he sort-of-actually was. “Are you a model too?”</p><p>Megumi brightened like a dying flower preserved for a few more days by a spritz of water.</p><p>“No, I’m just an enthusiast.” She fingered the lace over her collarbone with a shy smile. </p><p>Light politely glanced down at her hand, and by proxy, her breasts. Her fake nails were missing crystals in places. </p><p>“Misa has been showing me how I can help out with the VVC.”</p><p>Her friendly expression turned guarded at the mention of the charity. She looked questioningly at Misa. </p><p>“He’s the son of a policeman, Megumi-chan. He knows about our” she glanced at the door to the back room “problem with ‘rashi-san.” </p><p>Megumi looked at him like she could gauge the color of his soul from his perfect face. He knew from experience she couldn’t. </p><p>“You trust him, Misa?”</p><p>“I trust him. He’s a good person.”</p><p>Both girls jumped when the back door opened. Light caught the image of rotten flesh tattooed up the back of the man’s neck. He started to drag a heavy stool across the floor to the counter, gouging a long scar into the tiles. </p><p>“One of your friends, Megumi-chan?” Megumi scrambled to hide something under the counter. His eyes darted to Misa for a clue to what was going on. </p><p>“He’s just Misa’s boyfriend, Yamada. It’s got nothing to do with you.” She said, her hands still hidden in some stash. </p><p>Misa flinched as the man lunged towards them, casually backhanding Light into a display rack. He barely registered the thunderclap of pain before knocking over a row of sunglasses with the back of his head.  </p><p>“This is the boss’s store, so I’ll decide what’s my business.” </p><p>Light was forced to hit the floor to avoid knocking over the whole display. </p><p>“How are you going to pay for this, not-my-business?” The man stepped on a pair of sunglasses by Light’s head, crushing the plastic into shards under his foot. This was not happening. In a semi-public place in broad daylight.</p><p>Light could smell the acrid rubber on the bottom of the man’s boots as he silently loomed. He made a small sound as his hair pulled under the tacky soles. There was mud in his hair. There would be a mark on his face. He felt himself shaking from somewhere far away. This wasn’t him. He didn’t act like this. </p><p>“Think about your debts the next time someone asks you to accept an extra shipment, Megumi.”</p><p>Light kept looking at the shop door thinking that someone could walk in at any moment. Why wasn’t it opening? Did he want someone to see him like this? To call the police?</p><p>“There are other places you could work.”</p><p>He lifted his foot casually from Light’s hair and walked back to the room he had come from. The sound of the door closing rang loud in the little shop. Light lay on the floor listening. Another door opened and closed. The adjoining shop must be owned by the same person. Or the same family. </p><p>He heard Megumi start to cry. </p><p>“He doesn’t know what happened to ‘rashi-san, Megumi. He wouldn’t dare do anything until he’s sure.” Misa said savagely. </p><p>Light started to pick himself off the floor. His hand slipped off the wire rack and he heard a crunch as he crushed another pair of sunglasses. The shards sank painfully into his hand and he choked on the curse burbling up his throat. There was blood on the floor, and he had done it to himself. </p><p>“You really think he can help us?” Megumi said, looking down at him dubiously. The bile in his stomach boiled. She was no one. She had no right to look at him like that. </p><p>“Give him the note.” Misa urged. </p><p>Light stood up slowly so he wouldn’t sway or shake. He resisted the urge to wipe his bloody hand on his jeans. Maybe black wasn’t a bad color after all. </p><p>He had to pull himself together. Ignore the blood. Be the shining white knight. </p><p>“Megumi-san.” He got as close to her as he could from the other side of the counter. “If that’s how you’re treated, I will do whatever I can to help you.”</p><p>She didn’t believe him. That was OK. He was still an innocent victim, just like she was. Still trustworthy, if not entirely useful. He would just have to prove to her that he could be more. First to Megumi, and then to L. Somewhere along the line L had replaced ‘the world’ for him. That was fine too. To be the greatest, he had to beat the greatest.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>